


Upgrade

by maerzkindt



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Developing Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I love bashing Alexander Hamilton, Jamilton as a sex/hate relationship, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Sharing a Bed, and I love gushing about Angelica Schuyler, knox is really ooc because i didnt research him enough hha, offscreen Jamilton, too much mac and cheese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maerzkindt/pseuds/maerzkindt
Summary: When James Madison's hidden feelings for his roommate and best friend Thomas cause a misunderstanding with the owner of their new apartment, none of them suspects the chain of events that will follow. After all, pretending to be boyfriends won't change anything about their relationship, right?





	1. in which james makes a mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LimpBlotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LimpBlotter/gifts).



> this isn't a very long fic but I made it three chapters anyway \\( '-' )/ (I think it's easier to read that way)
> 
> the biggest thanks go out to my beta readers meridian_rose, casanova_k (avodoca) and halo_dean! I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Even afterwards, James wasn’t sure why he did it- it must have been something between a Freudian slip and a conscious decision but he couldn’t pinpoint it. All he knew was that he had once again fucked up. Magnificently.

The apartment was very nice- on the third floor of an unobtrusive brick building, with decent sized windows, an acceptable kitchen and a cosy living room that would be bathed in sunlight during afternoon hours. James had already imagined placing a new couch at the back and was mentally lounging on it with a book, a tray full of tea and cookies, when their potential future landlord, Mr Knox, decided to show him the bedroom.

“I’m guessing you already know there is only one, from our advertisement,” he said, “but it might be a bit smaller than you imagined.” Offering an apologetic smile, he ushered James inside, and the younger man saw what he meant: a double bed filled the room almost completely, leaving only a narrow strip of free space on both sides.  
It wasn’t so bad, though. They could always-  
“-put one single bed on each wall, that’s what you’re probably thinking,” Mr. Knox said. “Well, there is a tiny problem with that.”  
He scratched his head. “The bed is very wide, you see, so we can’t get it out through the doorway in one piece. And we don’t know how to disassemble it, either. It’s very old and valuable. But-,“ he added hastily, having noticed James’ distressed face at the mention of the word ‘valuable’, “-as it is a bit of an inconvenience for you, I won’t charge you for it or anything. The rent stays the same.”  
He gave one of the bed posts, made of dark wood with a swirly pattern, a light pat when a thought suddenly lit up his plump red face.  
  
“Didn’t you say it was two of you, interested in this apartment?”  
“Uh, yes,” James answered. “We’ll both have to move out of our dorm soon since it’s getting renovated… something about mold under the carpet, and new windowpanes…”

“Girlfriend or boyfriend?” Knox winked at him.  
“B-boyfriend,” James said, taken aback. “I mean-“

But the older man interrupted him, clapping his hands together in delight. “Tremendous! That solves our problem, then. Unless you two have a special double bed you absolutely want to bring with you…?”

 _What the fuck just happened_ , James thought to himself. _Did I just call Thomas my boyfriend_.

But to Knox he smiled and shook his head, and so he ended up outside the building a few minutes later, newly in possession of a copy of the rental contract, a box of chocolates, and an imaginary relationship with his best friend.

  
Who he was also secretly in love with.

  
\---  
  


“You did _what?!”_

  
Thomas stared at him with incredulous dark eyes under knitted brows, having taken off his glasses for better dramatic effect. This look of disbelief and betrayal was only slightly diminished by the fact that he was lying half-naked on the old sofa, laptop and a bowl of mac and cheese resting on his bare stomach.

 _Don’t start stammering_ , James thought, _and do not look at his abs_.  
  
“He took me by surprise,” he tried to defend himself. “I thought he was asking about your gender, and boy…friend sounded like the best option. I didn’t realize what I was saying until it was too late.”  
  
Thomas let out an overly exasperated sigh. “So what do we do now?”  
  
“…we’ll have to pretend we’re a couple.” James stated in a matter-of-fact voice. He just wanted to mess with Thomas a bit, but his friend’s irritated look still felt like a sting in his intestines. _Stop being such a weirdo, James. You can’t force him into making your silly daydreams come true._  
  
“That was a joke,” he amended lamely. “I’ll just… tell him when we sign the lease. We still want it, right?”  
“Sure,” Thomas said, a little muffled as he had started to stuff his face with mac and cheese again. “I’m not letting go of that gem now.”  
Finding the apartment had truly been a stroke of luck for them- it wasn’t close to campus, but the distance was manageable, and it was miraculously affordable. On reflection, the single bedroom certainly played a part in it.  
  
“Alright then,” James said, making his way towards the bathroom- he craved a shower more than anything right now- when Thomas called after him.  
“Why did I let you go check out the apartment on your own again?”  
  
“You said you needed to finish an essay for Washington, and that you trusted me with this,” James responded tiredly, relieved that the question wasn’t _Why didn’t you just clear up the boyfriend misunderstanding right then and there_. He couldn’t even answer it to himself.  
  
He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Thomas try to fit a particularly large chunk of noodles into his mouth while not taking his eyes off the screen of his laptop.  
“That’s dangerous, you know. You could choke and die and then you couldn’t finish your essay. Which you have of course already started, while I was slacking off in some apartment.”  
“Nah, Black Sails is not that shocking,” Thomas absentmindedly answered the first sentence before he abruptly turned his head to James again.  
“-Hey!”  
James only chuckled.  
“ _You_ can go choke!” Thomas yelled as he closed the bathroom door. “I will start writing after this episode, I swear!”

  
  
\---   
  
  


“ _We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created EQUAL!“_   Angelica declared in a booming voice, gesticulating wildly with her free arm. “ _That they are endowed by their Creator and_ -“  
  
“Could you please just stand on something else?” James begged. “And you know Thomas is going to kill you if something happens to that.” He pointed at the small golden frame she was holding, containing a single piece of closely written paper.  
She huffed indignantly, but stepped down from the cardboard box so he could open it and try to cram another book inside. “I’d like to cross out ‘men’ and write ‘people’, actually,” she said while examining the sacred artifact with a critical eye. “It is the twenty-first century, after all.”  
James shrugged. Thomas was a historical purist in that regard. He would have probably tried to steal one of the original copies of the Declaration of Independence for himself if he knew where they were being kept, but for now he seemed content with a photo on his wall.  
  
  
The day they were supposed to move out of the dorm and into their new apartment was approaching quickly, but it seemed as if Thomas had forgotten about it- while James had been kneeling between cardboard boxes for days, stacking more and less prized possessions, Thomas’ side of the room was still fully furnished and accessorized. Even a visit from Angelica couldn’t kickstart his packing campaign; he had successfully avoided it by disappearing around noon to get something from Washington and not coming back since then. James didn’t exactly think he was avoiding their room, or him, but it didn’t feel quite right either. But what did he care.  
  
“So, Jemmy,” Angelica interrupted his thoughts- _why was she using that ridiculous nickname now?_ -, a grin starting to blossom on her beautiful face, “how’s the whole boyfriend scheme going?”  
  
_Shit._  
  
He turned his back to her to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks, rummaged around in another box and mumbled something incomprehensible. Then he felt her poking the back of his head.  
“Come on, I know you guys already signed the lease two weeks ago. Does your landlord still think you’re a couple?”  
James’ only answer was a deep sigh. Angelica squealed in delight. “Oh my god, really? He went with it?”  
  
“Yes, and I still have no fucking clue why. We met with Mr Knox and I was just about to explain it to him, but then he introduces himself as ‘Thomas Jefferson, lucky boyfriend’?!” James threw his hands up in a half annoyed, half helpless way. “He kissed me on the cheek, for God’s sake!”  
The memory still made that particular spot on his face burn like Thomas had left a permanent mark there, one that screamed _this face belongs to Thomas Jefferson even if he won’t kiss it ever again_.  
Angelica’s grin had grown wider with every word, now stretching entirely across her cheeks and fully revealing her perfect teeth. If he hadn’t been gay as fuck, James was sure he would have fallen for her ten seconds into their first meeting. He could still be in love with her mind and appreciate the hell out of her aesthetically pleasing appearance, though.  
  
“I’m telling you, there’s something there!” she was saying now. “He’s testing the waters, just you wait!”  
She was adorable, trying to make him believe in a brighter future where he could be something other than a friend to Thomas, where Thomas could be something more for him than an object of dreams and unattainable fantasies.  
He had to laugh and she punched him, impressive arm muscles- strengthened by basketball and daily pushups- propelling her fist into his soft flesh.  
“Ouch.”  
“Sorry. But seriously, what’s so funny?”  
He rubbed his aching shoulder. “I was just thinking about the mess I call my feelings and their heightened messed up-ness ever since I met Thomas. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but… this came pretty damn close.”  
Thomas was just like Angelica, in that sense. The only difference was that James had, unfortunately, developed romantic feelings for him instead of platonic ones.  
“Did I tell you how I found out he was into guys, too?”  
  
“You did. Multiple times,” Angelica told him with the slightest roll of her eyes. “You moved in with him, lusted after him for a month but thought he was straight, then discovered otherwise when you walked in on him and Alexander Hamilton getting it on in the empty old chemistry classroom.”  
James felt his face redden again at the memory. “ _Alexander Hamilton_ , of all people-“ he spit out. Angelica frowned at him.  
“Stop being so mad at him, he’s pretty cool. And even if you can’t bring yourself to like him, their hate sex was amazing, apparently.”  
“Hearing you say that really lightens my mood, Angelica.”  
  
She shuffled closer to him and took his face into her hands. He made an unhappy noise as she squished his cheeks together, but she ignored it.  
“Listen. You’re moving into that apartment in like, three days. Just the two of you. It’s going to be a fresh start and I’m sure you will make something of it. Thomas has been acting weird lately and I could very well imagine it’s because he needs to sort out feelings of his own, so don’t just give up hope yet, okay?” She fixed him with that special kind of stare and he felt something like confidence creep back into his heart.

First packing, then moving, then feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins...   
> on a side note, this story takes place in princeton, new jersey because the real madison and burr studied there! I imagine their apartment building looking something like this:   
> http://x.lnimg.com/photo/poster_768/a93fb4581d2e4b41a552cc86a2c6e396.jpg


	2. in which The Bed is revealed as the actual main character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just kidding. but people do lie in bed a lot in this chapter.

The first night was strange. James lay awake, sprawled diagonally across the double bed, taking in the unfamiliar sounds of their new neighborhood- cars rushing past on the street beneath the window, some cats fighting two blocks away, occasionally cicadas. He could hear everything, except for the regular breathing of his roommate- Thomas was sleeping soundly on the couch in their new living room, snuggled into a sleeping bag he had borrowed from an unwilling but ultimately soft-hearted Aaron Burr.  
James imagined him, only a few steps but simultaneously worlds away, turning and scrunching up his nose in his sleep as he always did, his curls a mess all over the pillow.  
  
He was in love with him; that much was undeniable by now. They had become friends almost immediately after being put in a dorm room together, contrary to most people’s expectations that they wouldn’t get along because of their differences. Where he was restrained, Thomas was exuberant; he sparkled like a fucking mirror ball when the light shone on him, he blinded and overwhelmed people with his charm, his looks and his wits. Everyone either worshipped him or hated him with burning passion- even Alexander Hamilton and his friends (the most prominent members of the second group) couldn’t resist giving him their attention, although it was soaked with scorn and dislike.  
James on the other hand? ‘ _Intelligent young man_ ,’ his professors would probably say, ‘ _very opinionated!’_ \- but not brash or loud enough about it to make anyone find and hold interest in him. Anyone except Thomas, who had recognized him as an equal from the moment they had simultaneously opened their mouth in class to deconstruct one of Hamilton's crazy arguments. Although they had very different ways of going about showing them, they shared the same views and it tied them together more tightly than anything else could.  
  
_So why is it that he doesn’t feel the same about this_ , he thought. _Why is Hamilton the guy who gets to kiss him and be with him instead of me?_    
_Because you are just the silent support guy in his eyes_ , a part of him said. _He only likes you when you’re useful to him._  
  
He knew it wasn’t true, yet he couldn’t stop repeating it to himself during countless nights like this. In the end that sometimes led him to a resolution- to abandon Thomas, to leave his field of gravity, find new friends outside of his surrounding system and a happiness that wasn’t riddled with feelings of inferiority and secret longing for something he could never have.  
But then Thomas smiled at him, complimented his line of argument in class or in one of his essays, or he just got up early in the morning to make pancakes for them both- and James felt like he was the center of the universe.  
  
He buried his face in his pillow. Why did it have to be so complicated? He hadn’t planned on spending his college years as an emotional mess alternating between states of utter despair and brightly burning hope, but it didn’t seem like his feelings for Thomas were going to go away soon.  
  


Suddenly, he heard the soft smacking of naked feet on the wooden floor. The sound came closer until a hand lightly nudged his back. He made a soft whining sound into the pillow.  
“James, it’s me,” Thomas whispered. “Roll over.”  
James turned on his back. His tired eyes were only able to make out a shape, slightly darker than the rest of the room, hovering to his left.  
“What’s going on?” he asked as the shape climbed onto the bed and started gently pushing him to make him move. He complied but suddenly felt hyper-aware of his heart beating a lot more forcefully in his chest than before.  
“Aaron’s sleeping bag is shit,” Thomas said under his breath. “Either he never uses it, or he’s secretly one of those frost giants from _Thor_.” He settled down next to James and pulled on his blanket, not seeming to realize that his friend was lying there practically paralyzed.  
  
_Thomas is in my bed_. He had imagined this situation many times (with a more or less innocent twist to it), but now that it was actually happening he had no idea how to react. Thomas’ body was so close to his own he could feel the heat radiating off of it. It would have been so easy to inch a little to the left and make their skins touch, sneak his fingers into Thomas’ hair and pull him in-  
He turned abruptly so his back was towards him. _Nope, we are not thinking about this. Go to sleep_. Which he did, after what felt like an eternity of listening to his friend’s breathing- slow and deep, it calmed down his racing heart and pulled his thoughts away from him like waves carrying a bottle from the shore out into the open sea.  
  


\---  
  


Of course no one but James heard the doorbell ring- but then no one but him was sitting on the floor in the dimly lit corridor of their new apartment, leaning on the wall and clutching a can of beer. The others were all gathered in the living room, drinking and dancing and having big fun. Even Burr, the most stuck-up person ever, had been swinging his hips when he had last seen him, trying to impress a disgusted Angelica with his moves while her sisters laughed at him.  
  
He felt pathetic, but he hadn’t been able to bear it anymore- the deafening noise, the overwhelming heat and force of dozens of bodies moving as one mass, drowning him in their midst. The sight of Thomas throwing his arms around everyone in his reach, leaning in closely when someone wanted to tell him something and throwing his head back in laughter when they had finished. He kept randomly touching everyone’s arms, shoulders and even faces, his eyes sparkling with affection and adoration for people he barely knew and who had just kind of turned up to their housewarming party.  
_I’m not giving you the bed later,_ James thought grimly. _Hopefully your latest catch will like the couch_.  
Yes, he was being unreasonably jealous and immature, but he was also drunk and in love, two things commonly used to excuse anything. Luckily Hamilton wasn’t here, or else he might have done something very stupid.  
  
The sound of the bell almost made him jump, but he steadied his beer at the last second. Groaning, he got to his feet and shuffled towards the door. Maybe he should get a broom or a frying pan, in case it was Hamilton and his insufferable friends.  
It wasn’t Hamilton, nor the freckled one or the one with the beanie. (He wouldn’t have minded Lafayette; he was tolerable even if Thomas always slipping into French with him was annoying.)  
  
“Mr. Knox! Good evening!” James smiled and hid the can he was still holding behind his back in an awkward butler-like pose.  
The older man returned the smile, but it was a bit strained. “Good evening to you too, Mr. Madison. Though the hour is a little too late- no, too early actually- to say that. Anyways-“ he continued, looking down at his watch multiple times as if to stress his point, “it’s definitely not the right time for this level of volume, nor for this kind of… stomping around. It is vastly unpleasant to be resident of the apartment below yours right now, if I may say so.”  
_Great_. Four days in their new home and they had already pissed off their landlord (although Mr. Knox seemed incapable of expressing anything even remotely resembling anger).  
  
“My deepest apologies, Sir,” James said, trying to sound as sober and remorseful as possible. “This is very embarrassing for us, again, we’re so sorry. We will turn down the music immediately and send our guests on their wa-“  
Right at this moment the door to the living room opened behind him and Thomas stumbled out, Burr following closely.  
  
“Jemmy!” Thomas exclaimed happily when he saw him. “We were just gonna go and get his s-sleeping bag, right Aaron?” He gave Burr a slap on the ass and the other man yelped. James shot Thomas a death glare while simultaneously trying to block them both from Mr. Knox’ view with his body.  
“That’s very nice, but could you just-“ he said, desperately yanking his head in the direction from where they had come. Something like comprehension lit up on Thomas’ face. James felt the tiniest bit of hope that the situation could maybe still be saved when Thomas reopened the door, put the half-emptied bottle of tequila he’d been holding into a confused Burr’s hands, pushed him backwards into the living room and slammed the door shut again. Then he turned and came towards them.  
_Oh Jesus._  
Mr. Knox gave off a nervous laugh. “Mr. Jefferson, how nice to see you too. I was just telling your boyfriend about our little problem-“  
“There’s not a problem my James can’t solve.” Thomas grinned, slinging his arms around James waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Right, darling?”  
  
It took all of James’ strength to uphold his mask of seriousness to Mr. Knox while his brain was simultaneously being flooded by utter panic and screaming desire. His head was spinning, which didn’t help matters.  
“By the way, Mr. Knox,” Thomas was saying now, “we just looove the bed you gave us!” His speech did sound a little slurry.  
Their landlord’s face lit up immediately. “Really? That’s wonderful to hear! I’ve thought about having it removed but I am strangely attached to it; my grandmother-“  
“The last time I checked there was enough space for five people at the same time!” Thomas interrupted him, beaming. “And it’s great for trying out new positions-“  
James stepped on his foot with as much force as possible and the rest of the sentence turned into curses and wailing while James kept smiling at Mr. Knox like a madman. The latter had gone violently red, and his facial expression seemed ready to come crumbling down any moment although he was trying to keep it under control.  
  
“I… am so very glad you find it useful,” he said, his voice shaking. “Mr. Madison, since I have made myself clear I’m going to leave you to your… devices now and return to my own home again. A good evening to you, boys-” And with that he turned and fled downstairs.  
They remained standing in the doorway, Thomas still holding on to James while swaying in an invisible breeze, until they heard him lock his apartment from the inside.  
  
“What the fuck, Thomas,” James said.  
“Aw, come on. He just doesn’t know how much fun it can be to have a big bed…”  
Thomas chuckled lowly into his ear and it made the hairs on James’ arms stand up. He could feel himself get hard.  
_He’s drunk and you’re drunk_ , a little voice said in his head. _He would say these things to anyone right now. He’s probably said them to Hamilton_ -  
“We need to turn the music down.” He almost choked on the words while trying to squirm free of Thomas’ grip.  
“Alright, just wanted to say… I missed you at the party,” Thomas whispered suddenly. “You just went away and I wanted to look for you but then I was too drunk… but it’s just not as much fun without you, James…” He trailed off and let go of him, and James forced himself to step back. It felt like having to stretch a rubber band that was suddenly connecting them.  
“Thank you,” he said, his heart fluttering in his chest, the sensation of Thomas’ arm around him lingering on his body like a strange kind of phantom pain.  
  
There was a long pause where he frantically searched for something else to say, but Thomas didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t even move from his spot by the door, just stood there and looked at him with glassy eyes clouded by alcohol and something else James couldn’t define.  
His search for words was interrupted by loud music and voices bursting from the living room- Burr had once again come into the corridor, this time accompanied by Angelica.  
“I want my fucking sleeping bag, Jefferson!” he slurred before bending over and throwing up right onto their rug.

  
The remainder of the party was a blur- turning off the stereo, announcing to everyone that the fun was over, shoving and sometimes carrying people out the door; James did all of it swiftly and thoroughly, like a machine designed for the purpose. He only started thinking again when the Schuyler sisters were the last guests about to leave (Burr had already been placed in their car with Eliza’s girlfriend Maria watching over him) and Angelica pulled him aside for a moment.  
“Is everything okay?” she asked, gripping his shoulders instead of his face like usually. “You and Thomas were just standing there when we came… you looked really weird. I would have asked you right then, but Aaron…” Her mouth twisted.  
James just nodded, too tired for words and not knowing what he should say to her anyway. She didn’t seem convinced but let him pull her into a hug and then followed Eliza and Peggy outside, closing the door behind her.  
He leaned against it, letting out a deep sigh. Fucking finally. He had taken care of the rug, but the leftover bottles and clothes strewn all over the battlefield that had once been their living room would have to wait until tomorrow. Or later today. He just wanted to sleep and forget about everything- what had happened and what could have happened but didn’t. Which reminded him, where the fuck was Thomas?

“I can’t sleep on the couch today, Jemmy… Burr took his sleeping bag with him,” Thomas murmured from his spot on the bed while James pulled a forgotten sock off his right foot. He had managed to get there alone, at least.  
“You’ve slept here ever since we moved in,” James reminded him, because Burr’s sleeping bag had also been useless the second night, and the third night Thomas hadn’t even tried anymore.  
He didn’t respond anything now, and when James climbed into bed and claimed his part of the blanket he realized that Thomas had already fallen asleep.

  
He woke up because of a warm mass pressed against his back that was making him sweat like hell. His blanket was gone, and the first grey shimmer of daylight sneaking in between the blinds illuminated Thomas snuggled up against him, one of his arms loosely draped across his body.  
James always groaned in annoyance when someone in a book he was reading asked themselves this, but- _I am dreaming, right?_  
He could feel Thomas’ soft breath on his neck, the rising and falling of his chest against his back. He had read somewhere that in a dream you couldn’t smell things, and yet he recognized the coconut-scented shampoo Thomas used.  
  
He kept very still, thinking the moment might end if he changed something about it, the way a soap bubble always popped when you tried to touch it- a shimmering illusion of stability, perfect in shape and color but fragile, not built to last.  
  
_Whatever this is,_ he thought as sleep crept up on him once again, _and whether it means something… maybe I don’t need to know that right now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to clear this up: thomas and alexander are mortal enemies with benefits, as in they hate each other but fuck occasionally. they're not in a relationship or exclusive.  
> the line about james wanting to 'leave his [thomas'] field of gravity' was inspired by midnigtartist's fic "are you afraid of the spotlight" because jefferson's gravity-like pull is often mentioned there and it's just such a fitting description. go read it and enjoy the quality jamilton!  
> i didn't tag marliza as a pairing because the (1) sentence in this chapter is sadly the only content for them in this fic, but let me say here that I love them very much. <3


	3. in which angelica is proven right

A handful of grass landed on his face and James suffered a violent sneezing fit while trying to shake it off.  
“What the hell, Angelica?! I think I just inhaled one!”  
“If that’s what it takes to get your attention…” She shrugged, grinning down at him without looking very sympathetic. “What are you thinking, James?”  
He sighed and closed his eyes again.”Take a guess.”  
He could hear Angelica take off her boots, then felt her lie down next to him on the picnic blanket. “I know you’re confused about his behavior, but try to see his side of things-“  
“Confused? More like fucking pissed,” he spit out. “I wonder- is he having fun messing with me like this?” She put a calming hand on his wrist but he couldn’t, didn’t want to stop now; it was all bursting out of him. “ _Oh James, I’m just gonna be really affectionate with you and cuddle you while we’re sleeping but then I’m never gonna talk about it again._ ” Ugh, he couldn’t even get his voice right.

“He was really drunk that night,” Angelica said and although he knew she was doing her best he felt a spike of anger and betrayal at her, for confirming that he had been right. That his doubts in that moment, standing in the doorway with Thomas touching him and whispering flirty things into his ear, had been justified. He couldn’t go back in time and do something differently, but the thought had been comforting: _maybe Thomas actually meant it, and I was just too insecure to let things happen. Maybe I’ve got another chance._  
“If everything he did that night was a result of some stupid drinking game, then he could have just told me so once he was sober,” he said. “It wouldn’t have bothered me.” At least not as much as this fucking agonizing uncertainty.

A few hours after the cuddling incident- in retrospective it seemed even more unreal that had actually happened- James had woken up alone and Thomas had been gone. He had spent the whole day at home waiting for him, for an answer to all the questions that were gnawing at him from inside.  
When Thomas had come back and wouldn’t look him in the eye or exchange more than three words at once, he had resolved to be patient and give him time. He hadn’t asked about anything. He had turned on the radio when they were doing the dishes, so the silence between them would be less awkward. When they had been lying in bed next to each other, neither of them asleep but both pretending to be, he had resisted the urge to turn over, pull Thomas closer and replay the moment from that morning.  
  
Two days had passed like this- Thomas disappearing most of the time and avoiding any contact when he came home- and it had been hell.  
Angelica dragging him here had probably saved James from going insane- even though it was a little cold for a picnic at the park at this time of the year, it was certainly better than staying home and slowly being boiled alive in a pot full of his own anxiety.  
What would he even do without her, listening to his rants and giving him advice and never asking for anything in return?

He searched her hand with his own and took it.  
  
“Did you know that people should appreciate you more?”  
She chuckled and lightly squeezed his hand. “Everyone always tells me so, but they never get around to actually doing it.”  
They lay silently for a while, looking at the mighty crown of a tree above them, before Angelica got into a sitting position beside him.  
“There was actually something I wanted to say before you started making advances on me, sport. I don’t think Thomas only did whatever he did because he was drunk and horny. Sorry if you got that impression.” She smiled down at him and James felt his stomach jump a little because if Angelica said so, it had to be true, right?  
“I can imagine getting drunk was his way to find the courage to do it, but it wasn’t actually the reason for it. I think he loves you, too, James.”  
Pause.  
“You do?” He hated how his voice sounded small and horribly hopeful at the same time.  
  
She actually laughed at him. “Of course I do, dummy! Let’s review: a guy named Thomas is confronted with a misunderstanding about him and his roommate being boyfriends. Instead of no homo-ing out of it as fast as he can, he goes with it.”  
“He just found it funny, it didn’t mean anything...,” James said but went quiet again at the sight of her eyebrows rising higher than should have been humanly possible.  
“You just keep telling yourself that and it might actually come true. Is that what you want? -No, didn’t think so. Anyway, the guy named Thomas also starts sleeping in the same bed as his fake boyfriend- which he could avoid if he wanted, but apparently it’s not worth the effort…” She shrugged in such an exaggerated way that James had to giggle.  
“Well, then there’s a party,” Angelica continued after a moment, “and dear Thomas gets hammered as hell. You know better than I what exactly happened, but let’s summarize: Thomas exhibits behavior towards his friend that one would normally call ‘flirting’, or ‘hitting on someone’. Later, he snuggles his friend while in bed. May I add that being drunk and half-asleep are two conditions extraordinarily qualified to let people show their true feelings…” Her eyebrows were twitching dangerously.  
  
“Alright, Schuyler Holmes, I give up,” James said, sitting up and raising his hands in defeat. “You have successfully set me back on track in my relentless pursuit of a guy named Thomas. I only have one question.”  
“And that would be?” she asked, grinning smugly like she had known she would succeed from the beginning.  
  
“What the fuck do I do now?”

\---

He called Burr around eleven because he felt like he would implode if he waited any longer- his body would just collapse in on itself and leave a mess of blood and brains and solid anxiety on the floor.

“Hello?” Burr didn’t sound like he had been sleeping until a moment ago, but his tone was similarly annoyed.  
“Hey, this is James,” he said, nervously fumbling with the seam of his shirt. “Sorry to call you this late, but… do you know where Thomas is?”  
He had come home from the park around seven, a smile on his lips and hope in his heart. Thomas hadn't been there. He had eaten and studied and watched TV and the hope had faded away and been replaced by disappointment, then self-pity, and now he was just anxious.  
  
Burr exhaled loudly to stress his irritation. “I’m on a date right now, Madison. At the cinema.”  
James refrained from asking _why the fuck do you answer your phone at the cinema?_ , deciding to apply some pressure instead.  
“Dude, you ruined my favorite rug. You owe me one.” That wasn’t quite true- the rug had been put back in its place after a thorough cleaning- but Burr didn’t need to know that.  
The argument seemed to work on him because his next sigh was a little less exasperated.  
“Why do you expect me to know what Thomas is doing?”  
“Um, I… I guess I just had to call _someone_?” James stuttered. _This is bullshit, just hang up._  
But then Burr said, “Luckily for you, I do actually know where he is.” He paused for a moment and when he continued, there was something strange in his voice. _Pity?_  
  
“He’s at Hamilton’s.”

“Are you… sure?” James almost whispered.  
“Alex sent me a text about an hour ago, that he couldn’t go to the store for shower gel because Thomas was coming over,” Burr answered. “And _he_  was the one who used it up, by the way.”  
James cleared his throat. “Okay. Thank you. Hope your date is going well.”  
“The movie is ridiculous, but Theo likes it,” Burr said, as always the guy who couldn’t shut up about his girlfriend. James could practically hear him smiling.  
“So… anything else you need?”  
“No. Thanks, again,” he said and actually managed to keep his voice straight for once. “I was just a little worried.”

When Burr had hung up James placed the phone on one of the nightstands- he had bought both of them together with Thomas, mere days ago- and climbed on the bed.  
_So this is it._  
He hadn’t thought he would feel so empty. All the times he had imagined a variation of this happening, to keep himself from confessing to Thomas or doing something equally stupid, there had been hurt and rage involved, strong emotions tearing him apart from inside. Nothing like this weariness that immobilized him, filling his limbs with lead and making his heartbeat feel slow and faint at the same time.  
The ceiling seemed to spin lazily as he looked up at it, a grayish sky with shadows instead of clouds dancing and mingling into strange shapes. It was ridiculous but he thought he saw Hamilton in it, lying in bed as if to mirror him across the vertical space between them. Only that Hamilton had Thomas nestled against him, one arm possessively slung around his body, Thomas’ head resting in the crook of his neck.  
Maybe he should call Angelica, James thought as he watched shadow!Hamilton slowly stroke a hand across Thomas’ cheek and trace the outline of his lips. Shadow!Thomas -this is absurd and I need to stop- smiled against his fingertips, his eyes halfway shut in dreamy contentment. Then Hamilton pushed two fingers into his mouth and Thomas started sucking on them-  
James only realized his hands had been clutching the sheets when a flash of blue light fell in through the window, illuminating the room only for a split second but wiping the ceiling of any shadow!people in the process. He suddenly felt his heart again, beating fast and forcefully in his chest as the howling of sirens rushed past somewhere beneath him and faded into the distance.  
And then he heard the door being unlocked.

James kept lying there for a moment trying to regulate his breathing, stupidly hoping that he could maybe just fall asleep right then and there. It worked as well as back when he had been ten years old, secretly reading late into the night and trying not to get caught by his parents. But from that time he also knew that faking it was always an option, so he pulled the blanket out from under him and covered his fully clothed body as far as possible- not a second too late, because a familiar patter of feet reached the doorway just as he finished.  
He listened to Thomas shuffle into the space between the bed and the left wall, then felt the mattress dip lightly as the other man positioned himself next to him. However no tug on the blanket followed, only silence and then- was that a spoon clattering against a bowl? And… chewing?

“What the hell are you doing?”  
  
Thomas shrieked and nearly lost his grip on the bowl. James stared at him, sitting up with his hand still on the lamp switch.  
“Please don’t tell me that’s mac and cheese,” he said. Thomas opened his mouth but didn’t seem to be able to form any words. His eyes were puffy and rimmed with red and his hair looked disheveled, locks sticking out into every direction.  
James had no idea what exactly was happening, but he felt something harden in his chest.  
“So,” he said, “how was your little rendezvous with Hamilton? Did he refuse to fuck you or what?” His tone was dripping acid while still sounding oddly casual, as if he was making friendly conversation with a stranger.  
“What?” Thomas croaked.  
James smiled at him. “Or was it bad? Is that why you’re sitting here gorging yourself on comfort food, maybe leaving a few stains of that disgusting sauce on our bed sheets because who cares? Although, seeing how you always run back to him, I honestly can’t believe he doesn’t absolutely _excel_ at fucking the shit out of you.”  
Thomas looked like he had just been slapped in the face, and a part of James felt good about it.  
  
“James, I didn’t-“ Thomas said. His lower lip was trembling.  
“You didn’t do a lot of things, Thomas, for example giving a shit about my feelings or my _fucking bed sheets!”_ His voice had steadily become louder and he practically shouted the last few words. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins like gasoline, burning, fueling his overwhelming need to punch something and watch it shatter under his fist.  
Thomas tried again. “Please, just listen to me!” He extended a hand to grab his wrist, but James scrambled backwards out of his reach.  
“I don’t want to listen to you anymore,” he said in a strangled voice because his throat had suddenly become constricted. “Because when I do you just fucking break me all over again. Just go fuck Alexander Hamilton all you want, at least he’s just as much of an asshole as you-“

“Shut _up_!”  
James stared at him, panting, and Thomas returned his gaze with hard eyes although the undersides were lined with tears.  
“I didn’t fuck Alexander,” he said.  
This time James was the speechless one. His heart was still racing but its rhythm wasn’t that of a relentless machine anymore; it was stumbling forward aimlessly and tripping along the way.  
“I didn’t have sex with him,” Thomas repeated. “I went to his place because I was… not feeling good, and we started making out and then I just… snapped. I ran out of there and came here. Came home.”

There was a long pause in which Thomas wiped his nose with the back of his hand and James thought about ways to conveniently die on the spot. He had discarded spontaneous combustion and a heart attack as possibilities and was considering suffocating himself with a pillow when Thomas spoke again.  
“I’m sorry, James.” He sniffled. “I’m sorry about everything. I did treat you like shit these past few days, and I was confused and scared and-“  
  
He made a little surprised sound when James suddenly threw himself forward and pulled him into the tightest hug he had ever experienced. They toppled over and landed on top of each other on the mattress, James’ still clinging to him like a drowning man. Thomas carefully wrapped his arms around his waist and held him there, feeling him tremble against his skin.  
“James… are you crying? Oh god. Please don’t cry.”  
“I’m fine,” James tried to say into his neck but his body proved otherwise, still being shaken by sobs.  
Thomas waited until the worst of it had passed, then pulled them both into an upright position and gently loosened James’ grip on him. His face was wet and his nose wrunning, but he smiled.  
“I should apologize too,” he said. “That was some awful shit I just said to you. I’m sorry.”  
“Accepted.”  
“It’s just that I…” James continued. He drew a shaky breath. “I love you, Thomas. I was really childish about it, I was jealous as fuck and I was scared, too, but I love you.”  
He looked at him with the most vulnerable eyes Thomas had ever seen, and it made something pull deep inside his chest, a feeling somewhere between pain and anticipation.  
  
“Can I kiss you?”  
  
James leaned forward, pushing Thomas back against the headboard of the bed, and their lips met softly. Bubbles or firecrackers or maybe even small stars were bursting in his stomach as Thomas cupped his cheek and made a soft humming sound in his throat. He buried a hand in his hair and it was even better than all the times he had imagined it.  
They pulled apart a few moments later and James turned around so he rested with his back against Thomas’ chest.  
“That was… nice,” he said, “but it would have been better if you didn’t taste like fucking macaroni and cheese.”  
He could feel Thomas chuckle. “I love you too, by the way.”  
James suddenly tensed against him. “Wait. Where did you put the bowl? I swear to god, if that shit is in our bed-“  
“I put it on the nightstand while you were screaming at me,” Thomas said with a laugh. “Nothing happened to the sheets, but I still promise not to eat in bed again.”  
  
After that no one said anything for a while, both enjoying the feeling of being snuggled up against each other with their legs intertwining.  
“So this is how we come full circle,” James stated eventually.  
“You mean because all of this started with the bed we’re sitting on in some way?” Thomas asked.  
“Yes, that as well. We will have to thank Mr. Knox once again, and of course demonstrate to him how we’re totally boyfriends now. I mean, still.” James grinned smugly.  
“But I mostly find it funny how our relationship reaches a new level whenever we get a new place to live- we live in the same room and become friends, we get an apartment and fall in love… what do you say we aim for a mansion with three bedrooms and a pool next?”

Thomas laughed. “Darling, that sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way, the movie burr was watching was thor: the dark world. *badumm tss* it's trashy but i like it.  
> thank you so much if you're reading this! I feel like the ending escalated very quickly and then burned out just as fast, but well... i might come back and improve it later.  
> i hope you enjoyed this fic (especially you, cucusa ^^) and a comment would be rad :D


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